Sweetheart
by MightyMorphingPomegranate
Summary: Valentine's Day. Just when Brennan thought things were getting back to normal, Hannah comes back again. Set towards the end of 6x14 "The Bikini in the Soup".
1. Chapter 1

**Set towards the end of 6x14 "The Bikini in the Soup"**

Sweetheart: Chapter 1

... ... ... ... ...

With a sly smile, Brennan broke character and ended their charade. "I was very good," she giggled quietly, positively gleeful. He was so downtrodden lately, and she hoped closing a case would cheer him up a little.

Booth thumped the table victoriously, making the suspect jump. "Damn good!" She reached for a high-five at the same moment as Booth. As their hands connected, they slipped for just a moment back into the seamless team they used to be, once upon a time. "Damn good." The air seemed to sizzle between them at their touch. Startled, they broke eye contact.

Booth turned his attention to the evidence bag.

"I- I lied about the DNA, too," Brennan stuttered quickly, diffusing the electricity of the moment. The perpetrator slumped in defeat, berating himself for falling for such a low trick.

Chancing another glance back at Booth, Brennan smiled. "I _was_ very good." Booth's face split into genuine smile that reached all the way up to his delicious chocolate eyes. She noted that her adrenal glands were producing an excess of adrenaline and cortisol at the sight, making it feel like she had a hundred butterflies in her stomach. She laughed, truly happy. He was healing. Maybe things could get back to normal after all.

... ... ... ... ...

"I _was_ very good," Bones giggled. Booth felt like someone had jump-started his dead heart. That tickling laugh and those sparkling eyes jolted him back to life. For the first time since Afghanistan, since Maluku, since the whole freaking Hannah mess, Booth felt a spark of something.

_My god, she is so damn adorable,_ he thought.

They were good together, him and Bones. Maybe things could get back to normal after all.

... ... ... ... ...

Booth shrugged the tension out of his shoulders. Taking careful aim, he unloaded five rounds into the nauseatingly lacy paper heart.

Everyone else had gone home to their respective lovers. He hoped that they choked on their chocolates, all of them. But he, Special Agent Seeley Booth, had no need for love. Valentine's Day. _What a pathetic excuse for a holiday, _he scoffed to himself.

With a click, the door to the shooting range opened. Before he saw who was on the other side of that door, Booth's heart gave a hopeful skip.

When he saw her, he couldn't help but smile. When he saw that gifts she had brought with him, he almost cried.

Another laugh, another jolt of electricity, and his blood was pumping again.

_She knows me so well._ Here was the woman of his dreams, who deserved so much more than he could offer, just content to be in his presence. She knew exactly what he needed tonight. She didn't push him to talk about Hannah. She even allowed him the dignity to claim that he was alone by _choice_ on Valentine's Day.

He marveled at the tender way she took care of him. Every smile she threw his way was like a surge of power to his flickering heart.

Life.

Temperance Brennan was the only thing keeping him alive.

... ... ... ... ...

Brennan hadn't felt so warm in months. _Not that my body temperature actually is higher than normal,_she clarified to herself, looking out the window at the snow. _Emotional warmth._ Yes, that was it. Booth was in the kitchen, quoting James Cagney lines from the movie they were about to watch.

"Stuffy, huh? I'll give ya' a little air!" She laughed as he mimed gnawing on... _something_ while simultaneously shooting a gun from his hip. He could always make her laugh.

He had been talking like that at the shooting range, too. When Brennan admitted that she had never seen the movie he was referencing, Booth insisted that they drop everything and go watch it _immediately_. They had climbed into his SUV and headed straight for Hollywood video.

Booth was downright giddy. He hadn't been in such good spirits since before he proposed to Hannah. Brennan hadn't spent so much time with him off-the-clock in over a year. Just being in his apartment again, without Hannah, was wonderful. It felt like a hug, like a _warm_ hug.

Kneeling in front of the TV, Brennan removed the movie from its case and slipped the disc into the DVD player. She heard the clink of the wine glasses coming down from their places in the kitchen. Booth was humming a tune she didn't recognize. Just as she was about to let loose a contented sigh, someone knocked on the door.

... ... ... ... ...

**I'll give you a hint. It's Hannah.**

**Gosh, I hate her. :)**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Sweetheart: Chapter 2

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Hannah was nervous. Her fingers trembled as she reached up towards her rearview mirror, tilting it downwards to check her make up. Part of her, the insecure part that was responsible for choosing her plunging lace blouse and dark smokey makeup, that part worried that she would knock on his door and he would never answer. Or worse, someone else would answer- a woman- tall, busty, and blonde. It was Valentine's Day, after all.

Her heels clicked on the marble steps leading up to Seeley's floor. The sound echoed around her, mocking her. Did she really think he wanted to see her? _Settle down, lady_, she thought to herself. _You can do this._

She knocked on his door, her heart beating up in her throat.

Seeley didn't smile when he saw her. She didn't think that he would.

He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here, Hannah?" His voice was tight. There were bags under his eyes, evidence that she had not been the only one having trouble sleeping. With a sweet pang of relief, she noticed that he was wearing flannel pants and a sweatshirt. She wasn't the only one alone on Valentine's Day.

"Seeley," she began softly. "Please talk to me. I miss you so much."

"Now is not a good time." He wouldn't even look her in the eye. "I'm sorry." Booth began to push the door closed, but Hannah pressed her hand against it, keeping it open.

"Wait, please," she begged. "I've missed you. I want to talk about what happened."

She saw his eyes flick down at her outfit, and she felt suddenly embarrassed. Feeling her face warm, she gathered her courage and stepped closer to him like the journalist she was. "Just give me five minutes." Seeley took a step back to preserve his personal space, just as Hannah had hoped.

"I'm busy tonight."

She took another step, slipping over the threshold. "Seeley, you've been avoiding my calls." He took another unconscious step backward. "I've had a lot going on." He must have realized that she was inside his apartment because he suddenly raised his hands in front of his chest in an effort to halt her progress.

Hannah's eyes went right to Seeley's left hand, which had previously been obscured by the door. He held two wine glasses, crossed at the stems. Her stomach flipped. She quickly searched the apartment for more evidence. Shoes by the door. A neat pile of clothes and a woman's coat on a chair. A strange cell phone on the counter next to a new bottle of wine. With a gasp, she whispered, "Oh my god." She folded her arms around herself, defending herself from what might come next. "Oh my god," she said again, searching his face to see if her fears were true.

... ... ... ... ...

Booth saw her eyes dart down to the wine glasses in his hand. He braced himself.

"Seeley, do you have a woman in here?" she whispered harshly. Despite the hurt in her eyes, Booth felt the indignation rise up inside him like the mercury in a thermometer. Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that she told him, in not so many words, that she didn't want what he had to offer? That she didn't want _him_?

Apparently his silence was enough of an answer for her. She moved her hands to her hips, revulsion written in every line of her delicate face. She began again, louder this time. "Oh my god, it's true? It hasn't even been two weeks!"

Booth tried to keep his voice down, conscious of Bones sitting on his couch just around the corner. He raised a pointed finger. "Okay, it's actually _none_ of your business who-"

"Excuse me?" she interrupted, her voice raising. "None of my business? You _proposed _to me less than two weeks ago and now you-"

"Hello, Hannah. It's a pleasure to see you again." The soft, overly cheerful voice came from behind his shoulder. He turned his body and stepped back to allow Bones into the circle. She was smiling, but her eyes were too bright. He tried to tell her without words that he didn't want Hannah there, but she wouldn't look at him.

As confusing as this situation was, as muddled as his feelings were for Hannah and Bones, Booth was sure about one thing- He wanted to spend his Valentine's Day with Bones, drinking wine and watching _White Heat_ and rebuilding something sacred that had broken. Hannah's presence was as unwelcome as running out of hot water in the shower on a winter morning.

Hannah's posture relaxed. "Temperance!" she sighed, with obvious relief in her voice. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you. God, I thought Seeley had an actual woman in here!"

If Booth hadn't spent the last five years falling in love with the enigma that was Temperance Brennan, he might have missed the hurt and confusion that flitted across her face at Hannah's flippant comment. But he saw it. Something raw and fierce and protective reared up inside his chest. He shifted his weight slightly, positioning himself between Hannah and Bones, almost as if he expected the tiny blonde to physically attack his partner.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he growled.

Ignoring the tension in the air, Hannah piped up, "You look very nice, Temperance." Bones recovered quickly. She was smiling that artificial smile again. "Thank you," she responded. "You do, as well." Booth let out a mirthless snort. The juxtaposition of Hannah's provocative getup and Bones' oversized sweatshirt/leggings combo was nearly comical. He was no scientist, but he recognized mating plumage when he saw it. Hannah was there to win him back by any means necessary. He knew Bones saw it, too.

There was an awkward pause. Bones broke the silence abruptly. "I should be going." She reached for her shoes and slipped them onto her feet. Booth reached for her. "No, no, Bones, please-"

"I really don't mean to interrupt your evening," Hannah offered in a tone that seemed almost coy. "I just wanted to speak with Seeley for a few minutes."

Booth glared at Hannah. "Bones. You really don't ha-"

"Thank you, Temperance, for understanding," Hannah interjected with a saccharine smile.

Bones was pulling her keys out of her coat pocket. Booth grabbed her elbow gently. "Please stay." As she turned, still smiling, she said, "No, you and Hannah have much to discuss. We can watch the movie another time. Perhaps next weekend." They both knew it was a hollow promise. "It was nice to see you again, Hannah." She slipped out the door and turned to close it behind her. As the gap between the door and the frame grew smaller, Bones finally met his eye. What he saw in her gaze stopped his heart.

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**Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

... ... ... ... ...

Booth had gone to answer the door, still humming a tune Brennan didn't recognize. The low warble of his voice stopped abruptly when he realized who it was. Still around the corner, kneeling on the floor, Brennan couldn't hear what Booth was saying. She could, however, tell by the terse cadence of his voice that the visitor was unwelcome. Curious, Brennan pushed herself up from the floor and moved to see who was making Booth so upset. Then she heard _her_.

"Seeley, you've been avoiding my calls." Hannah's voice, smooth like velvet and lazy like a summer evening, floated to Brennan's ears.

The air froze around her. The molecules stopped their frantic dance, slowing to a solid, impermeable block around her body. Brennan tried to breathe, tried to force her thoracic diaphragm to expand her chest cavity and pull the precious air she so vitally needed into her burning lungs. _Hannah_. It was _Hannah._

Just when things were healing between she and Booth, Hannah came back to swoop him up. Just when he had started to smile again. Anger and a deep, searing hurt coursed through Brennan, throwing her into a whirlwind of vertigo.

It was almost more than she could take. Brennan felt like her heart was fragmenting into a billion tiny shards, never to be repaired. She squeezed her eyes shut until one clear image formed in her mind's eye. Micah.

_"That's so much better than dead. Or even dead inside."_

At least she wasn't dead inside.

Brennan gasped for air and steadied herself. She rounded the corner.

Hannah looked absolutely flawless. No wonder Booth loved her. Her hair fell in glorious golden waves. Her eyes were like the night sky, dark and sultry. The smooth round flesh of her breasts peeked out above her neckline. She was Helen, the treasure of Troy.

_"She's not a consolation prize."_

How could Brennan have thought that she could ever compare to this beauty, this goddess among women? She was fiery and passionate and she _loved_ Booth without restraint. Hannah loved Booth like Brennan had wanted to, but her fear had stopped her. Booth deserved a woman like her. A woman like _Hannah_.

_"She's not a consolation prize."_

A horrible thought slithered its way into Brennan's mind, like the serpent in the Garden of Eden. _What if I'm the consolation prize?_

Words were falling from Brennan's lips, but she honestly didn't know what she was saying. There was a strange ringing in her ears. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

Then Hannah said the words that confirmed Brennan's fear. "I thought Seeley had an actual _woman_ in here."

The world was spinning, a white-hot blur before her eyes. Brennan had to get out of there.

She turned to close the door behind her, allowing herself one last moment of sweet indulgence with the man that she loved, but could never have. They locked eyes- her heavenly blue with his earthy brown. For the briefest of moments, Brennan lowered her defenses and poured all of her _love_, all of five years of trust and admiration and gratitude into her gaze.

"Goodbye, Booth," she whispered, and she really meant it. Brennan closed the door on that aspect of their relationship with a soft click.

... ... ... ... ...


	4. Chapter 4

Sweetheart: Chapter 4

... ... ... ... ...

"Goodbye, Booth," Bones said softly, and Booth could feel the finality of her words. She was letting go of him, surrendering him to another woman and herself to loneliness. Booth couldn't breathe, couldn't move to stop her.

The look on her face had reminded him hauntingly of the night he had driven her home in the rain. She had aimed those ocean eyes right at his own and asked for another chance. Booth could still hear her words, her quiet sobs, as clear as if she were right in front of him. A sickening shame flared up in the pit of his stomach. He had rejected her. Bones had finally, _finally_, opened her heart to let him in, and he shot her down like a doe in a clearing. She took the risk. She let him in. She gambled everything, and Booth turned her down without hesitation. Without blinking an eye.

_She still loves me. _The thought overwhelmed him. How could have been so _selfish_, so completely consumed with his own pathetic misery that he had missed the murmurs of her fragile heart? Oh, it was so obvious now. She was there when he was shot and when his tumor was removed. She was there for him after Hannah left. She was there whenever he needed her. She listened quietly. And tonight, at the shooting range? How could he have treated her like that?

His heart swelled so full of shame and love and sorrow that he couldn't make sense of anything except for one burning thought- She loved him. He would not mess this up again.

Hannah was talking. Her words sounded distant and muddled, as if Booth were underwater. He dimly registered that her hand was on his chest. "-so if we can both move past it, I really think we deserve another chance. We are so good together, Seeley."

Booth stepped back and turned to look at her. "Why did you ask her to leave? You had no right to do that."

... ... ... ... ...

Hannah was taken aback by his question. Who was he talking about? Temperance?

"I didn't ask her. She volunteered," she bristled, "which I honestly thought was quite considerate." Hannah softened. "She's a good friend, babe. She really wants you to be happy."

Seeley had a strange look on his face. His anger was replaced with something sad and almost contemplative. He moved his hands from his hips and slipped them into the pockets of his pajama pants. The change in his demeanor made Hannah nervous. She didn't like it when she couldn't read him. She took a deep breath and forged ahead with her speech. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Seeley Booth, and I'm not ready to give you up. I know that marriage is important to you, and I have decided that maybe, like, in a couple of years we could revisit the issue." He was looking at her, but his eyes were glassy and and unfocused. "So, while I'm still saying no _now_, I would be willing to consciously work towards that- "

"Hannah, I have to go."

She swallowed hard, trying to control her temper. "Seeley. I think you owe me some kind of explanation."

"I love her," Booth interrupted.

"Wh- who?" But she already knew the answer.

"Bones. I love Bones." Hannah could feel sharp tears biting at her eyes. Temperance. Of course.

Hannah wasn't stupid. She knew that she had never had Seeley's whole heart. A woman can tell when her man loves someone else. But for the _life_ of her, Hannah couldn't understand what Seeley saw in Temperance. She was just so _strange._ She was cold and unpredictable. When Seeley had admitted that they once had feelings for one another, Hannah chalked it up to their daily proximity. You spend enough time with someone and you're bound to get attached.

"I'm sorry, Hannah, really," his voice was choked with remorse. _Oh my god. He's serious._

Hannah could feel her tears running down her face, no doubt pulling a long streak of dark eyeliner with them. "I thought you were over her, Seeley," she said softly. "You told me that there was nothing between you two anymore."

He shrugged helplessly. "Um, Hannah, I'm sorry. She's the one, you know? She's always been the one." Hannah could see the certainty in his eyes. It was over.

"Seeley. Seeley, I _moved_ here to be with you." She was panicking. "I moved here from _Afghanistan_ to be with you."

"Hannah, I'm so sorry." He was sincere. Booth took her hands in his. "This is my fault, okay? I should have never pulled you into all of this."

He was saying goodbye. "No, please, Seeley, no. Stop. Please don't-"

"I should have been upfront with you in the beginning. When you and I met, I was trying to forget her. I was running away."

In a voice barely above a whisper, Hannah asked the one thing she needed to know above all else. "Did you ever actually love me?" She held her breath waiting for the answer.

He paused, and his hesitation was enough to force a sob from the depths of her aching chest. Tears were flowing down her cheek.

"Yeah, I did. I really thought I did."

Hannah nodded. She wiped her tears with a graceful thumb and turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Seeley Booth," she whispered, and she really meant it. She closed the door on their relationship with a sharp click.

... ... ... ... ...


	5. Chapter 5

Sweetheart: Chapter 5

... ... ... ... ...

_"You have reached the cellular phone of Dr. Temperance Bren-"_

Exasperated, Booth threw his phone onto the couch and rubbed his temples. He _hated _it when she didn't answer her phone. _"Partners keep their cell phones within earshot at all times,"_he had lectured years ago. _"You always answer when your partner calls, okay?"_ Bones took their rules very seriously, and it was unlike her to ignore his calls. Even when they were upset with one another, the rules still reigned.

A sick, hot pressure began writhing in his stomach. He dialed her again, pacing.

_...Brrrrring..._

Nothing. The ticking of the clock was nearly deafening.

_...Brrrrring..._

He needed to talk with her, to explain himself. He needed to apologize.

_...Brrrrring..._

He clamped his eyes shut, but it couldn't keep him from seeing her. She was sitting in his passenger seat, and she was crying. She was_ crying_ and he wasn't doing anything. _She was_ _crying _and he was refusing her. Each one of her sobs was a punch to the gut.

_...Brrrrring..._

For weeks, he had heard her sobs every night in that vulnerable place between waking and sleeping. He'd seen her tears every time he looked at that engagement ring. He'd felt those punches every time he had made love with Hannah. No matter what he did, he couldn't get away.

Sick.

He felt sick remembering what he'd done to her, remembering how he'd hurt her.

_...Brrrrring..._

Why wasn't she answering? She had only left his apartment thirty minutes ago.

He pulled his gun from its safe with the fluidity of years of practice. With the phone trapped between his ear and a hunched shoulder, he forced his arms roughly through the sleeves of his leather jacket.

_"You have reach-"_

"Dammit, Bones," he breathed through clenched teeth, and he was out the door.

... ... ... ... ...

Brennan watched the wine swirl in a perfect scarlet spiral at the bottom of her glass. Her tears fell gracefully down her cheeks, ballerinas in her own melancholy ballet.

She let out one sad little chuckle, amused at her maudlin sentiment. Apparently, her liver had not yet metabolized the alcohol she was consuming, and the ethanol content in her blood was affecting her thinking. Brennan became quite a sap after a broken heart and a few drinks.

She felt like a tree. She was a tree and Booth was a tree. They had grown together, sharing nutrients, protecting one another from ferocious winds, holding one another up... Their roots were entangled, beautifully intertwined until they could no longer distinguish between the end of one and the beginning of another. But he had wanted more. He wanted them to _fuse_ together, to become a single tree, mighty to behold. But it was too much to ask of her. She couldn't concede, couldn't surrender that last bit of herself. And instead of patiently waiting for her, instead of gently encouraging her towards himself, he ripped himself away. He tore them apart at the roots, and now all that was left were broken branches. She was half a tree. A broken tree, a dying tree. Alone.

The worst part of it all was that she was to blame. Brennan couldn't take the plunge. She couldn't let herself go. And by the time she had realized that the risk was worth it- the risk of being vulnerable, of being hurt, of being _known_\- it was too late. He was gone, swept away in the arms of another.

Rebecca's face floated against Brennan's closed eyelids. _"I think there's a moment for two people. A single moment for two people where they can catch fire..."_She and Booth, they had missed their moment.

She wanted him to be happy.

Hannah made Booth happy, he had said so himself. He loved her, and he was happy. Hannah was passionate and Brennan was a cold fish.

Brennan pressed a small toy pig against her crushed heart.

She could feel him forgetting her. She could feel herself slipping away into the night of Booth's mind, into the dark of his memory. Her heart was bursting, overflowing- spewing a dull ache into every cell of her body. Pain. Grief. All-consuming grief like a fire. Grief like she was drowning.

_"That's so much better than dead."_Micah's voice, soft and sad._"Or even dead inside."_

She would stay with Booth as long as he would let her, in whatever capacity he would allow. She needed him like a flower needs the sun. If she couldn't bask directly in his warmth, she would settle for fragments of light, reflections. She wanted him to be happy, right?

Everyone always left. The arm of the couch muffled her sobs and soaked up her tears. Everyone always left.

Even Booth.

... ... ... ... ..

**Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, or reviewed! I am humbled by your enthusiasm. Your kind words mean so much!**

**I'll probably have the next chapter posted tonight or tomorrow. I'm really struggling with the ending so far (whether to stay in canon or not), so let me know if you have any preference. :) Thanks again.**


	6. Chapter 6

Sweetheart: Chapter 6

... ... ... ... ...

Her car wasn't at the Jeffersonian.

Booth was _sure_ she would be there, buried so deep in her work that she couldn't feel the emotions trying to claw their way out. The gambler in him would have bet it all on finding her with gloves on, hair pulled into a loose knot, lovingly studying a skull. But she wasn't at the lab. Booth was stung with the realization that she had changed over the last year, really _changed_, and he was too distracted to notice.

His muscles ached with worry. He tried her cell phone again, but it rang without answer. Booth turned in the direction of Bones' apartment. He glanced at his speedometer and leaned on the accelerator.

_Breathe_, he told himself, remembering the hours he spent as a sniper laying in the grasses of war zones. He slowed his pulse. She had probably fallen asleep, he reasoned. She was probably at home, asleep in her bed. Or perhaps on the phone with Angela. Or even working on her novel, who knew? _Stay calm. Focus._

Bones' car was in her assigned car port. Booth slammed the transmission into park and jumped out without locking the doors behind him. When he reached her building, he flew up the stairs two at a time. His heart was thumping overbearingly in his ears. Booth knocked, but no one answered the door.

"Bones?"

Booth pulled out his keys and rifled through them one by one until he found the one he was looking for. With a knot in his chest, he realized he couldn't remember the last time he had used that key. They had been so comfortable with each other, once upon a time.

The lock clicked. Booth pulled his sidearm and pushed the door open, the bitter taste of dread in his mouth.

There was a soft light glowing from a lamp in her living room. A wistfully sweet melody drifted out of her stereo on the wall. It made Booth homesick for something- maybe for a dream that he'd once had.

His eyes swept the apartment. No signs of struggle. "Bones?" he called again. Booth tentatively peered into the living room. There was an open bottle of wine on her coffee table. His tense muscles relaxed as relief flooded his veins.

She was there, sleeping on the couch. Her cheek was pressed into the inside of her arm, making her lush lips pucker like a newborn baby's. Her soft auburn hair draped across her graceful cheek bones. Any self-control Booth had before he saw her like that, peaceful and so small, left him with a sigh.

A tiny plastic pig peeked through the fingers of her right hand. It felt like someone was squeezing his heart, making it hard to breathe, making it hard to think. Her eyes were swollen. She had been crying. A Booth felt a lump in his throat he couldn't swallow. Glad as he was that she was safe, it killed him to know that he, her sworn protector, had caused her tears. His arms ached to hold her.

Booth walked over to the corner of the room and pulled a soft blanket out of a basket on the floor. Walking back towards Bones, he pressed it to his face, breathing in the sweet scent of her home, of _her. _Gently, he laid the blanket over his partner's delicate frame and tucked it beneath her feet. Booth reached toward her face and tenderly brushed a silky lock back behind her ear. Her pulse flickered rhythmically beneath the ethereal skin of her neck.

The temptation to kiss her was overwhelming. Her soft breathing called to him like a siren's song. Perhaps on a normal day he would have been able to resist, but not this night- Not after their high-five in the interrogation room. Not after her sweet gesture at the shooting range. Not after seeing her walk out of his apartment with her farewell in her eyes. Not after finding her now with Jasper tucked in the palm of her hand.

No, Seeley Booth could not resist. He leaned close and placed a whisper of a kiss on her temple, then on her forehead, and then one on her tear-stained face.

"Sweetheart," he murmured softly, careful not to wake her.

... ... ... ... ...

The gesture was sweet, so protective and paternal. Brennan knew she must be dreaming, or perhaps remembering. As a small child she would sometimes pretend to fall asleep on the couch at the end of the evening. Her father would lovingly scoop her up in his arms and carry her to her bed. She would squint up at him through her eyelashes and try not to smile. Remembering the feeling of his soft chuckles rumbling in his chest, she realized now that he must have seen through her bluff. Children, after all, are not very good at faking sleep. He would tuck her in, kiss her forehead, and whisper, "Goodnight, sweetheart."

_"Sweetheart,"_ he murmured. Except this time she knew it was Booth.

She knew it was Booth because she recognized his touch from her dreams. Even in her sleepy fog, Brennan was struck by the absurdity of that last thought. Dreams were, after all, nothing more than random electrical pulses interpreted by the brain in a desperate attempt to see patterns where patterns do not exist. She could not, of course, _feel_ Booth's lips in her dreams. Still, warmth spread through her entire sleepy body, warmth that she only felt around one person.

"Booth," she breathed, her voice low and airy.

... ... ... ... ...

**I'm really nervous about this chapter. Let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

Sweetheart: Chapter 7

... ... ... ... ...

_"Booth._"

He froze, still just inches from her face. Like the wings of a butterfly, her eyelashes slowly fluttered open. He couldn't have moved if he'd wanted to. Those eyes, blue as the sea, pulled him out into their depths like the retreating tide. She gazed at him openly. There was no analyzing, no questioning, no guarding herself. She just looked at him. Booth was barely breathing. He hardly ever saw her like this, vulnerable and childlike, caught in the magic moment between dreams and reality. She reached up and gently brushed his lips with the pad of her thumb. A small wrinkle of confusion creased her brow. "I think I'm dreaming," she mumbled sleepily.

Booth felt the corners of his mouth float up into a shy smile. "No. This isn't a dream. Shhh, go back to sleep."

He watched her come to her senses. Bones blinked and sat up. She tried to stealthily slip Jasper under a pillow. "Booth? What are you doing here?" She was wiping her cheeks self-consciously.

Booth sat down by her legs. "I'm sorry, Bones, I really didn't mean to wake you up. You weren't answering your phone. I was worried."

"My- my phone?" She shook her head a little, trying rid herself of the grogginess. "I don't know where it is." Her eyes widened. "Oh, I do know where it is. I'm sorry, Booth. It's on your kitchen counter."

"On my counter? In my apartment?" Booth put a fist against his forehead, embarrassed.

"I turned the ringer off. I didn't want to be interrupted during the movie. Then I left in such a hurry..." Bones trailed off awkwardly.

"Oh, Bones, I'm so sorry. I thought something might have happened-"

"No, Booth, it's my fault. I shouldn't have forgotten it." He saw her eyes glance towards the clock. "It's only 9:30. I thought you would be spending the evening with Hannah." She looked down at her hands in her lap. "Do we have a case?"

"No." He shook his head. "No, Bones. Hannah left. I was calling you to apologize." She looked up quickly.

"You and Hannah...?" she asked tentatively. Or maybe hopefully?

"No," he said again.

Bones laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Booth," she said softly, tenderly. Booth felt a lump in his throat because she really was sorry. He had put this courageous woman through hell. Not only had Bones befriended Hannah and saved her life, but she had also never spoken a negative word about her. Bones was sad, genuinely sad, that Booth was hurting. She _truly_ wanted him to be happy, even if that meant that he was happy with Hannah. Awed by the depth of her selfless love for him, Booth covered her hand with his.

"No, Bones." He shook his head, trying to find the words. "Sweetheart," he sighed, his eyes begging her to understand. "I asked her to leave."

... ... ... ... ...

_"Sweetheart." _There it was again. The way he said it made her heart flutter. _Maybe it wasn't a dream, _she thought. Brennan's hand tingled where Booth was touching her.

_He asked her to leave?_ Brennan's head was spinning with the implications of Booth's comment. Not daring to hope, she asked him to clarify.

"I don't understand. Why would you do that?" Her voice was shaky, devoid of its usual cool, collected tone.

Booth's eyes were warm as he looked into hers. He reached down under one of her throw pillows. Brennan blushed when she realized what he had in his hand. Jasper. Booth gathered her hands in his so that they were both holding the little pig. He smiled sweetly and massaged her fingers softly with his thumb, soothing her embarrassment.

"I... I need to start by telling you how _sorry_ I am, Bones. I have been a complete ass to you these past couple of months."

"Booth, no, I know you've been-"

"No, Bones, no. Please let me get this out. This- between us- it's killing me. And it's my fault."

A tear slipped down her cheek. How could he think he was to blame?

"I shouldn't have pushed you. That night after we talked with Sweets. I completely botched that and it was my fault. I pretty much cornered you and asked you to choose between jumping into a relationship with me or ending our friendship. I was in the wrong."

"Booth," she shook her head. She needed to make him understand. "No, I'm sorry I reacted like I did. I've had a lot of time to think about it. I was scared and I-"

"Shh, I know." He wiped the tear from her cheek. "I knew you were scared. I was scared, too, I guess. I went about it all wrong, Bones. And then I left for Afghanistan when what I should have done was chase you to Mala-choochoo and fix things between us."

Brennan choked out a laugh. "Maluku. The Maluku Islands." She knew he had butchered the word on purpose.

Booth's smile faded. He looked down at Jasper.

"I went to Afghanistan to forget you, Bones. Hannah was the first woman I ran into, but honestly, I would have taken anybody. I'm not proud of that, okay." He shook his head in shame. "It worked at first. Being with her. It numbed the pain. It was kind of like gambling, you know? The rush. It always wears off, and then you need it again, except you need more."

Brennan let him talk, squeezing his hands gently when he needed encouragement.

"With Hannah, it wasn't enough. There was still emptiness. So I needed more. I asked her to move in with me. I paraded her around in front of my friends. I convinced myself that I loved her." He scrunched up his face in disgust. "I panicked. I thought that I would never be happy, so I asked her to marry me. But it still wasn't enough- she wasn't enough, even if she'd said yes. She wasn't you."

Booth finally looked up into her eyes. His were moist with tears. "Because you, _you_ are the standard, Bones." Her breath caught at his words, the echo of a conversation that had haunted her during those long nights alone in Maluku. Booth scooted closed to her and brought her hands to his lips. "I can't get over you." He kissed her fingers. "I shouldn't have tried."

Brennan was frozen, enthralled by his kiss and enchanted by his words.

"I know that things have been different since we got back. I know I've been ignoring you." Brennan looked down at his admission. His absence had hurt her even more than his rejection. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for that. I couldn't face you. I could tell that you were hurting, but _damn, _Bones, it all but killed me to be near you. And it killed me to be away from you. I- I felt like I was suffocating. I knew I was still in love with you, but I didn't want to be because I thought that you didn't want me." He covered his face with one hand, not able to meet her eyes.

"And then that night- that night that I took you home and you, you-" Brennan nodded, sparing him the pain of saying it aloud. She knew the night he was referencing.

"Bones, I'm so sorry." He choked on the words. "I'm so, so sorry." He reached up and cupped her face in his hand, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb. She leaned into his touch.

"It's okay, Booth," she whispered, bringing a hand up to hold his hand against her cheek. "It's not your fault. I should have given us a chance. Instead, I left for Indonesia. I made a mistake."

"No, Bones, you don't understand." He leaned closer, earnestly, his face inches from hers. "_I'm_ the one who made the mistake. _I'm _the one who got the signal from the universe and ignored it. _I'm _the one who has regrets." Each phrase sent a shiver down her spine as Booth echoed the words she had spoken to him that night.

"Booth," she began in a soft voice, "I hurt you, too."

"No, Bones," he said emphatically, "not like I hurt you. You were scared. I.. Bones, I was cruel to you. That night could have been different, but I let my own pride get in the way. I didn't want to admit that everything I had with Hannah was a sham. And- and I was angry. At you, at myself. So I just let you cry. And I am sorry, so, _so sorry_." His fingers were stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry, too, Booth. I never meant to cause you pain. I just needed to know if there was still a chance for... something more." She let her eyes fall shut, focusing on the feeling of his touch. She couldn't look at him, still uncertain about his feelings. Was there still a chance, or had their moment passed? Then, his soft voice met her ear.

"Do you want to know what I wish I would have done that night?" he asked softly. Brennan was frozen, breathless. Booth let his hand slide out of her hair and down her jaw to her chin. "I wish would have told you that I love you. I've never felt this way about anyone else. I love everything about you, every single thing. You are perfect to me. I love your brilliant mind. You always keep me guessing. You care so much about other people, even if you show it in unusual ways. You are so passionate and fiery and drop-dead gorgeous, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You are so much more to me than a partner, more than a friend." He brushed his lips against hers, barely touching.

Brennan noticed the bright spots of light flickering in the corners of her vision, realizing that she had been holding her breath. Booth was saying the words that she was longing to hear. She waited to see if her fight-or-flight reflexes were going to kick in, but they never did. She let the emotions flood her, soaking up every bit of love and relief and uncertainty and fear. Booth's eyes were a lighthouse, guiding her safely through the swirling sea of her own feelings.

"I need to be around you, Bones. Even when we bicker and drive each other up a wall. You challenge me. I am the man I am today because of you. You have changed me for the better, Bones. I owe my life to you in so many ways. I owe everything to you. And I know you're scared, but I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Booth whispered against her lips.

Shivering at the sound of his words and the feel of his breath on her skin, she took a deep breath. "I know," she said. "I trust you."

He pulled away and shook his head. "You shouldn't trust me." Then he smiled sadly. "It's not rational."

Brennan considered his point. Yes, it was true. Everyone left, even Booth. But she had left, too. And the difference was, Booth came back. Here he was, in front of her, repairing the damage he had done. Ironically, when Booth had first admitted his feelings in front of the Hoover building, Brennan had five year's worth of reasons to trust him. But she had said no. Now, after her trust in him had been shattered, she realized the fault in her own logic.

"Booth, love isn't always rational. Sometimes it's a choice. You taught me that. I am going to choose to trust you."

Brennan knew now that love was more than chemicals, more than biological needs. Love was putting someone else before yourself. Love was leaving the sanctuary of your own heart, becoming vulnerable, for someone else's benefit. Love wasn't a feeling, but an action. And Booth had shown her that.

Hope sparked in Booth's eyes. "Love?" he asked. Brennan suddenly felt shy. She smiled and looked down. "Yes. Love," she whispered.

With determination in his eyes, Booth took both of her hands in his again. "Bones, I don't know for sure where we're going with this. Maybe we could try to be together one day, I don't know. I will promise you this, though. No more Hannahs or Catherines or anyone else for me. I would rather just be your friend, you _partner_, than to lose you because of someone else. I love you, and I'll wait for you. As long as it takes, I promise. Even if this is all that we ever are."

Brennan was glowing. How did he know exactly what she needed him to say? Her heart was healing. Like she could reassemble a broken skull, Booth could fix her broken heart. It was as if he had collected each piece, each hurt, and lovingly put it back together. Slowly, she eased towards Booth's mouth and let her smooth lips caress his, simple and sweet. She pulled back and looked into his warm brown eyes, now alight with a question.

"Bones?" he breathed, like he couldn't believe she had actually kissed him. She smiled. "You won't have to wait long, Booth. Don't you think we've wasted enough time?"

He smiled and then his mouth was on hers again, reverently, like she was precious and priceless to him. Brennan marveled at the feel of his lips and the taste of his tongue on hers. He was so gentle with her, leading her but never pushing her to go further. In all her life, she had never been kissed like this before- so lovingly, so sweetly. Even her dreams were nothing compared to the reality of Booth. At the sounds of her soft sighs, Booth pulled her into his lap and let his hands wander to her hair, to her shoulders, to the back of her neck. He covered her face and neck with gentle kisses, stopping at her ear.

"I love you. I have loved you since that very first case we worked together, since the first time we kissed. I never stopped loving you, Temperance," he whispered. Brennan's breath caught at the tenderness with which he said her name. "Even if I couldn't even admit it to myself. We're soul mates, you know."

She opened her mouth to speak, but Booth laid two gentle fingers on her lips to stop her.

"I know you don't believe in soul mates-"

Brennan laughed, tilting her head to the side a little.

"-but you're in my soul, Bones." Her eyes sparkled.

"I love you, too, Booth," she said softly, as if telling him a secret. She felt warmth through every cell of her body, straight down to the bone. He was kissing her again, so sweetly and passionately that she couldn't think clearly.

... ... ... ... ...

Sometime later, they settled onto Brennan's couch with her laptop on the coffee table. As the opening credits of the movie began rolling, Booth pulled Brennan close to his side and placed a kiss on her hair.

"Happy St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Bones," he said with a smile that put butterflies in her stomach.

She laughed at his joke, leaning her head down on his shoulder. "I _am _quite happy. Perhaps this holiday has some merit after all."

... ... ... ... ...

The End

... ... ... ... ...

**Thank you, again, to everyone who has taken the time to read my story! I'm sorry that it took me so long to post this chapter. I really wanted it to be simpler, but I thought that Booth owed Brennan an explanation, so I left most of it in. **

**Let me know what you think!**


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